Classical music just got cool

I went to the trendiest club I've ever been to on Friday evening. As we approached the hidden location, I thought we weren't going to get in, the queues were so long. Snaking around beside the railway tunnel walls and a ceiling writhing with fluorescent, intense graffiti, the crowd was beautiful: international chic with an arty, but impeccable, slant. Lots of razor sharp cheekbones, nose rings, ironic novelty jumpers and top hats. A little more sophisticated than the average gang out in Shoreditch.

The venue, when we finally got in, was damp, dark and gritty. Huge bulbous, pearly moons hung from the sky, mesmerising graphics covered the walls and guests bobbed on wooden sea saws. A DJ played minimal techno to warm us up and we headed to the bar. But this was no ordinary place to rival The Box: it was a classical music club night.

I'd bumped into some friends before heading out for the night. When I told them where I was going, they wrinkled their noses and sniggered. "A classical music club? Erm, have fun, guys." It's not many people's idea of a hot night out.

But, if you hadn't noticed already, there's a classical music revolution happening in Europe and this latest wave is moving from Berlin to London in the shape of Yellow Lounge, a project driven by Universal Music Group's Max Hole. Seen those posters for the special edition of "Now That's What I Call Classical" on the tube? People are getting down on the masters like they never have before.

The second Yellow Lounge in London (the first was in July, they're monthly in Berlin) was a completely different experience to any concert I've ever been to. For a start, we had too wait until about 9.30pm for the first performance. Alice Sara Ott, the virtuoso pianist who stood in for Lang Lang with the LSO under Daniel Harding last year, played first. Next to an enormous disco ball shaped like a crescent moon and in front of a screen transmitting her performance, she played Beethoven, Chopin and Liszt, talking to the audience about why she liked the pieces and what they meant to her. We stood up as if we were at normal gig, sipping coke (£2) and beer (£4). The atmosphere was buzzy – and for good reason: she played with great emotion, intuition and sensitivity. The sound of the trains above and the chatter of people in the other rooms jarred but I suppose that's something to get used to and a small price to pay.

I caught up with Ott the night before she played and asked her whether she enjoys playing unusual venues.

"It's the best way to get close to people who don't normally listen to classical music," she said.

I played to 700 people recently in a techno club in Germany. It was full but the audience were calm, silent and attentive. The reaction was pure as most had never listed to that kind of music before. It was honest, special and intimate. There were a couple kissing last time I played Yellow Lounge and I loved that.

Ott cited the expense of tickets as well as music teachers who bludgeon children with Mahler and Bruckner at a young age as reasons why classical music isn't as popular as it could be. To counter this, she sometimes tells stories at her concerts because she believes that it's a lack of knowledge which alienates people. This enables people to identify with classical music and in turn "completely change their attitude".

Young people love pop music because they identify with the lifestyle and the stories of the composers. But their lives were no different. Without classical music, the music today wouldn't exist. And it's so easy to get into classical music nowadays; you can download pieces from iTunes cheaply, look them up on YouTube. Better communication has made it much easier.

The gorgeous 23-year-old listens to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and other 70s and 80s music as well as classical music and believes you can get the same buzz from both. She even thinks you can dance to Bach because "it's got so much rhythm". There wasn't any jiving last night but I really hope that's to come; the second phase of the revolution perhaps.

Hannah Kendall, a composer whose work was played on Friday night, mentioned the "gritty energy" of baroque music when I asked her whether people could get the same high from a classical concert.

One of her compositions premiered at the National Portrait Gallery and she likes her pieces to be performed in settings that aren't traditional. Kendall is not the typical composer: she's female, Black British and born to South American parents. "You don't see people like me in concert halls," she says.

Influenced by Brian Eno and particularly Steve Reich, she is drawn to experiences where the audience can get involved. The minimalist movement propagated by Reich grew out of this desire, of course, and inspires her work and attitude to performance.

I ask her whether she worries that this new wave of club nights will result in a kind of "classical music lite" and a dumbing down of quality and talent. She believes "changing the venue does not affect the person's listening and the musicians are the same anyway – they're not going to sacrifice their artistic integrity". I wondered whether people boozing, chatting and nipping out for cigarettes might dilute the experience at all but she reminded me of the coughing that happens in many classical concerts.

Other people feeding this new craze are OAE (Orchestra and the Age of Enlightenment and their Night Shifts in pubs ("great vibes" according to Hannah) and the LPO and LCO at the Roundhouse are also doing exciting things. "Things are changing," Hannah says. And by the looks of Friday night's shindig, they really are. Classical music just got cool.